


87% Solution

by NotHereNJ (efficaceous)



Series: Season 11 Fix It Fics [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fix It Fic, Hall of Shame, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous/pseuds/NotHereNJ
Summary: [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]BY E. E. CUMMINGSi carry your heart with me(i carry it inmy heart)i am never without it(anywherei go you go,my dear;and whatever is doneby only me is your doing,my darling)i fearno fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Season 11 Fix It Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097000
Comments: 11
Kudos: 152





	87% Solution

The people door was slightly open, so Mickey sidled into the garage, looking around at everything except Lip where he crouched behind the bike, polishing the fender. “Yo, Lip. You still love anyone other than Tami?”

The scent of brake cleaner and wood shavings were heavy in the air, with a slight tinge of diesel fuel. The light filtered in dimly through dusty windows, and only an old, fading fluorescent hanging from the low ceiling provided additional illumination for Lip’s work.

Lip sighed, resting back on his heels. “Where’s this coming from, Mick?”

“Just humor me, ok? Do ya?” He was fiddling with an old brake rotor Lip had left on the workbench, flipping it over and over in his hands anxiously.

After a pause for consideration, Lip answered honestly. “Maybe. Helene, probably.”

“Yeah?” Mickey peered at him over the saddle of the bike, blue eyes bright and inquisitive. “How much, you figure? Like, what percent of your heart does she got?“

“You want a number?”

There was a nod.

“Uh, I dunno. Like, three percent, maybe?”

“Fuck,” came the sighed out response.

Lip rolled his eyes, already knowing where the issue had started, if not the specifics. “What did Ian say this time?”

“Never fuckin’ mind.” Mickey was already halfway to the door, shoulders slumped and hunched defensively.

Standing, Lip stretched his back out. “No, come on. You can’t drop that and run, Mickey. Spill it.”

“Fine!” Mickey turned to face Lip, crossing his arms over his noticeably broad chest. “He said I’ve only got 87% of his heart, that 13% is out there for other dudes he banged.”

“Shit.” Lip seemed stunned by the statement, as Mickey had been, not just in the moment but every moment since. It seemed incomprehensible to him that Ian didn’t love him with his whole heart. Mickey couldn’t imagine having any room in his heart for anyone else, so how could Ian? What needs wasn’t Mickey fulfilling for him, and how could he possibly fix this?

“Yeah.” The word came out like a sad admission; it felt like failure, as a husband and as a man.

After a moment’s reflection, Lip tried, “Well- I mean, the way we grew up, we always had to spread the love around, not put it all in one basket. Not Frank, or Monica, or Fiona, or even me. Cause we always let each other down, somehow.”

Mickey shrugged. That sounded nice but the result was the same- his husband loved other men, too. Still.

Lip saw his reluctance and gave it another try. “Or… ok, look at it this way. You know infinity?”

Rolling his eyes, Mickey used his most put-upon tone. “Yes, Phillip, I know what  _ infinity  _ means.”

Instead of rising to the bait, Lip pressed on. “Ok, so what’s infinity minus one?”

Mickey stopped and actually thought about it. Thought hard. He hadn’t gone very far in school, due to lack of interest and attendance issues, but math had always come naturally enough to him. The answer he kept coming to was a genuine surprise though, “Still  [ infinity ](https://www.reddit.com/r/NoStupidQuestions/comments/b35hbg/is_infinity_minus_1_still_infinity/) , I guess?”

Lip nodded. “Yup. Ok, so what’s infinity minus one percent? Still infinity. Infinity minus 13% or even minus 99% is still infinity. Ian loves you more than 87%; he loves you 87% of infinity. That’s still really fuckin’ huge.”

That sounded valid, but the feelings of doubt and inadequacy were still weighing on him. “Yeah?”

“Definitely, man.” Lip crouched back down, rubbing his cloth over and over the dull spot on the fender, trying to bring the shine back. There was no magic number of times it would take to achieve the goal: it took what it took, and he had to be willing to put the elbow-grease in if he wanted the result.

Mickey’s quiet voice barely reached across the motorcycle to Lip’s ears. “He’s just left so many goddamn times. It’s hard to think that’s not what’s gonna happen again someday.” That was the truth of the issue- his own goddamn abandonment issues, more so than his husband’s divided heart.

Somehow, Lip understood implicitly what Mickey needed, what he could give to his brother-in-law. “He’s also come back to you more times than I can count. He never came back to anyone else, not really. You focusing on the negative shit just makes you see more negative shit. Focus on the fact that he proposed, what, three times? Gave you all his cash? Wanted to throw his parole for you? Left every single one of those guys the minute you popped back up. Stop lookin’ at the intangible and focus on what you can feel and touch. ”

Mickey stared down at Lip in frank amazement. He’d always known Lip was booksmart, and had too big a mouth for his own good, but this was a whole new level of insight. It was easy for him to forget that Lip had had a front-row seat to their entire relationship, trying to support Ian along the way as he dipped in and out of Mickey’s chaotic life. 

“When’d you get so smart, Lip?”

Lip rubbed his forehead with his forearm, leaving behind a dingy line of grey. “Sometime  _ after  _ I dumped your sister for Karen Jackson.”

Biting out a laugh, Mickey shook his head in acknowledgement. “No shit, that was a dumb bitch move.”

“I know that, now,” Lip agreed calmly. “Karen’s got like, one percent of my heart but Mandy- I think about her a lot. Wonder, you know. If things’d been different, where we’d be. Would we be like you two, or would we still have ended up going our own ways?”

A silence descended as both men thought back on the vibrant, troubling girl they’d know and loved, as a sister and as a woman, respectively. 

Mickey spoke first. “Hard to tell, man, hard to tell. She was goin’ through some stuff too, back then.”

Instead of engaging further in the what-if’s and reminiscence, Lip moved the conversation on. “You want a soda?”

Shaking his head, Mickey moved towards the door. “I want a beer. But I ain’t gonna drink it in front of you, so I’ll see ya, ok? And… thanks.”

Lip stood and grabbed the pop can, opened it, and took a deep swig, before replying to the departing back, “No problem, Mickey.”

  
  


* * *

After Ian was done ‘making it up to him,’ _twice_ , they lay together across the bed, sweaty and lovely.

“I guess I just give parts of myself away to people, ya know?”

Mickey  _ didn’t  _ know, and it took a long moment for his brain cells to come back online enough to figure what the fuck his husband was talking about. Eyes still closed, he asked, “Like, what parts exactly ‘re we talkin about?”

Ian sat up on one elbow looking down at Mickey, who had been trying very hard to bask in some much-deserved afterglow. “Parts of my heart, Mick. 

“Oh.” He didn’t quite know what else to say. His conversation with Lip had helped a lot, but mostly he was plannin’ on just never thinkin’ about the whole 87% thing ever again. He was real good at not thinking about shit.

“I think that’s what got me in so much trouble, like. I give parts of myself away when I love someone, and when it ends, I’m left with a big hole in my heart.”

Apparently they were actually going to have this conversation, so Mickey opened his eyes. Ian’s face was very close by, green eyes staring at some point between his eyebrows, best he could tell.

“S’what you get for loving people who ain’t me,” was the only thing Mickey could think to say, even knowing it was coming out wrong, all gruff and defensive, still.

“Oh, Mick,” Ian sighed, and pressed his palm to the side of Mickey’s face, turning him until they were face to face, noses tip to tip. “You don’t understand yet. When I said those vows, I meant ‘em. Everything I have, is yours. Every bit of my heart that’s left is full of you, belongs to you. You live in there- you always will. A little cranky hobbit who beats my pants at video games and doesn’t like baths.”

“Look, that bathtub shit was too- I dunno, too exposed, ok? Middle of the afternoon with all the other Gallagher’s home, any one of em’ coulda come in to take a shit at any moment. Hard to get in the mood like that,” he protested, letting the eye contact and sweet words soothe away any rancor left in him. “Wait, are you calling me shor-”

Ian cut off the complaint with a kiss, pressed closed mouth to Mickey’s lips, effectively silencing him. 

There was no more to be said. Their hearts and hands were full of each other, only them. After all this time, only them, always them.

_ i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) _

e.e. cummings  
  



End file.
